Soulless
by sinemoras09
Summary: Kazuma dies. AU. Gen. Unrequited Kazuma/Bishamon. Spoilers for chapter 63


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They felt his absence most acutely during the mundane things - missed connections, a package in the Near Shore not being handled, various odds and ends that need their attention, but somehow went by unnoticed. Kinuha sifted through Kazuma's notes and frowned to herself, trying to stave off the coming migraine.

It didn't help that when Kazuma wrote, he wrote using old Japanese, a mixture of Chinese characters and ancient notation. He didn't even use modern dates - instead of months, he divided the year into 24 periods, corresponding roughly to the lunar calendar. "I don't even know what this means," Kinuha said.

"Eh?" Kuraha said. He frowned and looked over the papers.

"Oh. _Joushi_. 'Old Snake.' I think that's the beginning of March."

"March 3rd," Bishamon said behind them, and Kinuha and Kuraha turned.

"Oh, Ane-sama," Kinuha said. "How is your health?"

"I'm fine," Bishamon said. "Are you still sorting through Kazuma's papers?"

"Er, yes...his writing is sometimes difficult to read."

"Well, Kazuma and I do originate from roughly the same time period," Bishamon said, but she tripped up on her tenses. _Kazuma did originate._ No one corrected her. "Perhaps it would be easier if I went through his notes for you?"

"Oh no, Ane-sama! We couldn't ask that of you," Kinuha said.

"Leave it to us, my lady. Okinu-san and I have everything under control."

"Thank you, Kuraha. Kinuha." Bishamon smiled. "Let me know if you need help deciphering anything."

"We will." They watched as Bishamon nodded at them, then quietly slipped out the door.

xXx

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No one was surprised when she failed to appoint a new exemplar.

"I will depend on the counsel of all of you," Bishamon said. She was sitting at the head of the table, smiling kindly. Her combat shinki shifted, uncomfortably. Karuha spoke up first.

"Ane-sama. Don't you think...don't you think it'd be better if we had a leader?"

"I do. That is why I will leave that up to your discretion."

Her shinki glanced at each other nervously. "Ane-sama, what do you mean?"

"I mean to say, talk amongst yourselves and decide who will best represent you," Bishamon said. "You are all equally talented and I value all of your opinions, equally. An exemplar should be someone you all respect," Bishamon said. "So what better way to find one than for you to choose?"

"You...want us to choose your exemplar?" Kinuha said.

"As I said, I value your counsel equally," Bishamon said. "But if you are more comfortable with having a representative, then I think it's best for you all to choose."

"As I thought, no one can hold a candle to Kazuma-san," Kuraha said. The other shinki frowned, hunching into themselves.

They came to a decision: Kinuha would be in charge of battle tactics and strategy, and Akiha would be in charge of maintaining the shrine. Kuraha would take over managing the household, and the twins Karuha and Kazuha would tackle the monumental task of sorting through her wishes. Aiha and Yugiha would be in charge of filing any paperwork the others deemed as necessary.

"We'll meet once a week to make sure everything goes smoothly," Kinuha said. Bishamon nodded, pleased.

"Very well. It seems you have all the tasks well-divided."

"We do. It's actually pretty amazing, how much Kazuma-san had to take care of-"

Kinuha stopped. Bishamon's eyes flickered, a brief pang of something, before she smiled, kindly.

"Kazuma did have quite a bit of responsibility. But I think with the seven of you, you can make it work. I have faith in you all," Bishamon said, and she smiled. "Thank you again for all your help."

xXx

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The young ones took it the hardest.

Some of them were centuries old, but they still had the mentality of very young children. "When is Mr. Kazuma coming back?" one girl said. She must have been about five years-old when she died, though she was one of the first shinki taken in after the Ma clan's demise.

"He's not," Kinuha said, gently. The children whimpered, quietly.

"But Mr. Kazuma reads us our stories."

"He's the one who protects us from monsters."

"I drew a picture for Mr. Kazuma. What will I do with it now?"

"You can give me the picture," Kinuha said. "I'll give it to Ane-sama. I'm sure she would like it."

The children looked up at her and nodded with wide, wet eyes.

"They have nightmares," Mineha said, quietly. She had taken over the child-caring duties in the aftermath of Kugaha's betrayal. "Kazuma-san sometimes used spells to lull them to sleep."

"Spells?" Kinuha said. Mineha nodded.

"A song of sleep. An incantation, I think. It made the children feel safe."

"I don't know if any of us knows how to use song spells," Kinuha said.

She went to the library, where young Yukine was studying. He was the closest thing to their exemplar, and even though Kazuma had died, he still came to the library, out of habit. Quietly she knocked, then opened the door.

"A song of sleep?" Yukine frowned. "I don't know one specifically, but usually you just make it up."

"Make it up?" Kinuha said. Yukine nodded.

"You probe the contents of their dream and sing a song to counteract it. It's like drawing a borderline with words. The song changes with each nightmare."

"Oh," Kinuha said. She frowned at Kuraha, who gave her a little shrug, apologetically.

"Hafuri vessels are definitely in a league of their own," Kinuha said. She was walking with Mayu in the garden, watching the children as they played. "Making up songs to sing the children to sleep? I just thought they were talking about nursery rhymes, I didn't realize he was actually casting spells."

"Kazuma-san was very talented," Mayu said. "But I heard Yukine-kun offered to teach you?"

"Er...well it didn't go as well as we had hoped." Kinuha winced at the memory of Yukine trying to teach Kuraha a few basic phrases, only to have Kuraha mangle the lyrics and render the spell functionally inert. "That being said, Mayu-san. Have you ever heard Kazuma-san sing before? Neither of us have, but we were wondering if maybe you did when you served Yato?"

"I heard him cast an incantation once," Mayu said. She looked up into the sky, remembering. "He used an old folk song as his base. He had a low, soft singing voice. I thought he was just humming to himself, but he was really keeping the ayakashi around us at bay."

"Why didn't he just draw a line?" Kinuha said. Mayu smiled.

"He didn't want to draw attention to us in front of his master."

xXx

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In life, Kazuma-san was very private. He kept his emotions firmly in check, and had a warm but professional relationship with the other shinki. The only one he was really close to was Ane-sama.

"Surely, one of us should be comfortable enough to pack away his room," Kuraha said.

Everyone else frowned and stared at their hands.

They went into Kazuma's room with quiet reverence, both carrying folded-up boxes and plastic trash bags. The hours passed, and slowly they stripped the room of its contents. The beddings went into the hamper. Old clothes went into a box marked for donation. They tucked away a few old books and personal mementos, labeling them in a box for future storage.

"Ane-sama?" They knocked on Bishamon's door, then slightly pushed it ajar. "We cleaned out Kazuma-san's room."

Bishamon didn't say anything. Her back was turned to them. She was looking out the window.

"Ane-sama. We have his things. Did you want to go over anything? Otherwise we were going to donate his effects and put the rest in storage."

"No," Bishamon said. "Do what you will with them. I don't need to see."

Kinuha and Kuraha shared a worried look. Kinuha stepped forward.

"Ane-sama?"

"Yes, Kinuha?"

She hesitated. "This is for you."

Bishamon turned. Quietly Kinuha bowed and placed a thick envelope on top of her table.

"Have a good night, Ane-sama."

"Thank you, Kinuha. Kuraha."

They bowed and left, quietly closing the door.

xXx

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This was what was in the envelope:

A lock of hair, tied delicately together with a piece of string.

A few old letters she had sent him when he was abroad, learning English and making connections with the western gods.

A stack of photographs. Most of them were pictures of her, snapshots Kazuma had taken when she wasn't looking.

There were small gifts she had given him. A birthday card that she thought was funny and reminded her of him; a postcard with nothing written (she liked the picture and thought he would like it too). A fancy lens cloth, which she decorated with magic marker.

"I wonder what she'll do with it," Kinuha said. She and Kuraha watched and waited for any telltale signs of distress: the slight watering of the eyes, the reddening of the sclera. The shift in breathing or subtle tightening of the jaw.

There was none of these. The envelope remained unopened but tucked unceremoniously in the lady's dresser drawer, buried beneath the stacks of unsorted papers.

xXx

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One month after his death, they started going on patrol.

The team was splintered. Aiha was unused to patrolling regularly, and Yugiha was relegated to the team of second string shinki, his inability to draw a borderline a detriment to the lives of the Near Shore. Even her guns Kazuha and Karuha were ineffective: shots rang out but the bullets missed, slamming into the sides of buildings and tearing through billboards, dangerously explosive in power and destructive force.

Only Kuraha and Kinuha carried the team. Bishamon wielded her whip skillfully as Kuraha leaped forward.

"What will we do?" Kazuha said. He and Yugiha were sitting in the conference room, depressed, while Karuha hunched forward and knitted her fingers.

"I'll draw a line," Kinuha said. The others lifted their eyes.

"You'll draw our lines?"

"But you're controlling your whip form."

"I thought Kazuma-san was the only one who could do that."

"He might have been a hafuri, but he wasn't the only one who can aim," Kinuha said.

It didn't work. Kinuha tried uniting the other shinki, but she only worsened things; bullets exploded several meters away from their targets and the line she drew for Yugiha wasn't enough to hold back his great sword.

"Our lady was the mightiest war god because of Kazuma-san's guidance," Kuraha said. "There must be some other way to unify the others in this team."

Yugiha and the twins went to Yukine for guidance.

"Yeah, I'll teach you guys how to draw a line," Yukine said, and he lifted his hand into a halberd.

xXx

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Yukine was barely holding it together.

Sometimes, he would be angry. What right did Kazuma-san have, dying on him before he could yell at him? Yukine had an inner screed prepared. He was planning to shout at Kazuma at the top of his lungs, scream at him for betraying him and call him out for abusing his trust.

But Yukine couldn't yell at him. The time they had spent together - Kazuma tirelessly teaching him, the hours drilling endless spells and its variations - was precious, and made the betrayal even more acute. He just wanted Kazuma to apologize and explain himself. He would have forgiven him. He was never given a chance to.

Yato took it worse. He was a nameless god and for a long time, Kazuma was his only friend.

Eventually he'd meet Kofuku and Daikoku, and then Hiyori and Yukine and even the crazy psycho herself. But Kazuma was the start of Yato's little family.

Daikoku made a little shrine and Kofuku cried for days.

xXx

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It was odd, seeing Bishamon walk alone.

They often walked together in the garden path, the two of them discussing various things. Often, Kazuma would be giving her council, or Bishamon would be asking his opinion, but more often than not neither of them would be saying anything, they would just walk together out of habit. It was something comfortable and familiar, seeing them together. They were very nearly inseparable.

But now she would wander the garden path by herself. Her shinki watched as she walked alongside the rose bushes that she and Kazuma used to enjoy; she would pluck a blossom from its stem and stare at the petals silently, wearing the same expression on her face as she did when Kazuma gave her his council. She would eat alone, then walk to her room alone. She did her work, answered her prayers and sorted her wishes alone.

No one saw her cry. The other gods were remorseful and her shinki were sorely missing his guidance, but the lady herself seemed stoically indifferent.

"Ane-sama?" Kinuha rapped her knuckles gently on the door. "Ane-sama, may I come in?"

"Of course, Kinuha." Kinuha pushed open the door to see her smiling kindly.

"I have a few reports we need to go over. Is now a good time?"

"As good a time as any," Bishamon said, and Kinuha presented her the papers.

"I'm sorry they're not as organized as they should be," Kinuha said. "Kuraha and I are still figuring things out."

"That's quite alright. You are all doing your new jobs splendidly. I couldn't ask for anything more."

"Ane-sama." Kinuha hesitated.

"Yes, Kinuha?"

"The others are wondering...Ane-sama, how are you doing? You haven't said a word since..." she struggled to phrase things diplomatically.

"Since Kazuma died?" Bishamon said.

"Yes," Kinuha said. Bishamon smiled.

"It is a bit of an adjustment," Bishamon said. "But you are all doing quite well to ease the transition. I'm confident we'll figure out how to run our patrol more smoothly in the future."

"You don't miss him?" Kinuha said. Bishamon blinked. "Forgive me, Ane-sama," Kinuha said. "It's none of our business and I shouldn't have brought it up-"

"No, it's fine," Bishamon said. She smiled. "As I said, you are all doing wonderfully. I thank you all for making this transition so smooth."

"Thank you, Ane-sama."

"Here are your reports," Bishamon said. "It looks as if everything is in order."

"Thank you, Ane-sama."

"You're welcome, Kinuha," Bishamon said.

xXx

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When Kazuma was exiled, no one had seen Ane-sama cry.

She cried in front of Kugaha, apparently. It shamed the others to find out. She let herself be vulnerable in front of him, and it turned out he was the one betraying her. It was understandable that Ane-sama didn't want to show the others any weakness.

"It might be better if we stop mentioning him," Kuraha said. The others nodded, gravely. "The lady is doing her best to forget about him. We must allow her to privately grieve."

They purged the mansion of any trace of him, until it was as if Kazuma never existed at all.

xXx

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They came up with a list of things only Kazuma could do:

He could draw lines for other shinki; he could cast spell-songs and incantations. He could figure things out ten steps ahead of any one of them.

Together, they could approximate the things that Kazuma did; Kinuha could guide their team as best she could on the field of battle and Aiha would try her best at learning incantations. The team together could try to anticipate the trajectory of a wayward ayakashi; all of them could draw a line.

And yet:

And yet, Kazuma-san was the only one who could make Ane-sama laugh. He was the only one who could sense her worries, the only one who could share her smile.

xXx

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The shinki grew worried for Ane-sama.

"She hasn't spoken about Kazuma-san at all," Aiha said. The other shinki in the room nodded. After the slaughter of the Ha clan, Ane-sama spoke the names of those who had fallen with quiet reverence, writing and remembering each and every shinki killed by Kugaha with exacting detail. Even after Tsuguha died, Ane-sama was the first to offer quiet vigil, praying over the makeshift grave. She didn't hide her sadness then. At that time, Kazuma stood beside her, silent and unmoving. He was the one who had killed her ( _to save Ane-sama's life_ , they remembered. _To protect her, as he always would_ ), and as the tears slipped down Ane-sama's face, they had seen his hand brush against hers gently. A quiet clasp of her hand in his own, the gentlest squeeze.

But she didn't grieve for Kazuma. At least, she didn't do so in front of them.

"My lady," Kuraha said, and Bishamon turned to look at him. "My lady, we understand if you are sad. Please do not hide it," Kuraha said. "You needn't suffer alone."

But Bishamon smiled softly. "Thank you, Kuraha," Bishamon said. "Everyone has been so kind. I don't know what I'd do without you."

xXx

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"Veena," Kazuma said. His voice was hoarse, ragged. Warm wet blood gushed from the wound beneath her hands. "I'm sorry...I did all that I could..."

"Don't," Bishamon said. She held him tighter, hefting him closer. "Don't speak, Kazuma. We'll take you home, we can heal you. You've been wounded worse than this before."

Yato and Yukine stood next to them, watching silently. Above them, the clouds parted; rays of sunshine cut through the darkened sky.

"Veena. There's something I've wanted to tell you. Something that I couldn't say until now..."

He smiled. A thin trickle of blood dripped down the side of his mouth.

"What?" Bishamon said. Her eyes were tortured. Red. "Kazuma, what is it?"

"Veena, I..." ( _I love you_.) "I'm glad that I could serve you." ( _I don't want to burden you with this. I don't want to hurt you._ )

"I know that, Kazuma," Bishamon said, and she started to cry.

After he died, she laid his body onto the ground and looked up at the throng of Heaven's forces descending upon her.

"Bishamon," Yato said, and Bishamon looked up, saw his face covered with sweat and grime, two blue eyes looking down at hers, sadly.

"That guy was in love with you," Yato said, and Bishamon nodded, dully.

"I know."

xXx

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Kinuha knocked carefully on Bishamon's door.

"Ane-sama?" Kinuha opened the door quietly. "Ane-sama, is everything okay?"

"It's fine," Bishamon said, her voice echoing in the darkness. She was sitting in a chair with her back facing the door.

"Ane-sama. Let me at least light a candle," Kinuha said, and as she stepped in she saw Bishamon's eyes were red.

Kinuha gasped, softly. "Ane-sama?"

"I'm fine," Bishamon said again, but she wasn't fine. Kinuha stepped forward and saw the envelope they had left her was torn open; she was twisting the papers in her hands.

"Ane-sama," Kinuha said. Bishamon started to cry softly, hunching into herself. The papers fluttered uselessly onto the floor.

"I'm fine," Bishamon said. "Truly. I just need some time alone-"

"We know. We understand, Ane-sama-"

"Kinuha," Bishamon said, and Kinuha stopped, turning back to look at her.

Bishamon's face was red, puffy. Her eyes were wet. Strands of long, damp hair stuck to her cheek.

"Kinuha," Bishamon said. "Will you stay a while?"

"Of course," Kinuha said. She pulled up a chair and sat beside her. Dully, Bishamon started to cry.

A broken doll. A metal scaffold, collapsed on itself. That's what Kinuha was reminded of as she watched her, feeling helpless and inadequate. _What would Kazuma-san do_? she thought, and awkwardly she reached out to pat Bishamon's hair.

"I miss him," Bishamon said. "He died and it's all my fault."

"He protected you," Kinuha said. "Ane-sama, he loved you. He wouldn't want to see you crying like this."

Bishamon sobbed harder.

Kinuha sat on her hands, wondering what else she could say. Quietly the door opened and Kuraha stepped into the room.

"Okinu-san. How is the la-" Kuraha's eyes widened.

"Ojou!" Kuraha said, and he ran beside her. "Ojou, why are you crying?"

"You know why she's crying, Kuraha," Kinuha said. Kuraha frowned.

"Kazuma-san would not want you crying like this!" Kuraha said, savagely. Bishamon hunched forward.

"I already told her that," Kinuha said. She sat in front of Bishamon helplessly. "Ane-sama. What should we do now?"

"I'm sorry," Bishamon said, and she forced herself to smile. "I don't want to trouble you-"

"Ane-sama! You're our master! It's no trouble at all!"

"Just let me be alone for a little bit," Bishamon said, quietly. Her eyes flicked upward. "Please."

Kinuha and Kuraha nodded.

"Okay, Ane-sama."

"Be well, Ojou."

"Thank you," Bishamon said, and they quietly shut the door.

xXx

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She was sitting in the darkness again. Turning the papers over in her hands, she tried to imagine Kazuma's hand as he wrote those letters. The long, tapered fingers. The sure marks. Everything he did was precise. There was nothing he did that was without purpose. With shaking hands, she lifted the letters to her face and pressed her lips to the paper, crying and squeezing her eyes.

Too late. Everything was too late. Even at the end he couldn't bring himself to confess to her - even as he was dying, he was worried about hurting her. _You could never hurt me_ , she thought, and she twisted the plait of hair he had saved around her fingers. She wished she told him she loved him, too.

xXx

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The dawn rose, and the blue-gray sky grew pink around the edges. Bishamon blinked her eyes and realized she had fallen asleep silently weeping. Lifting her head from the table, she felt her neck aching in protest. She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and stood, looking out the window.

"Ane-sama?"

Bishamon turned. Kinuha had knocked, then opened the door quietly. "Ane-sama. I'm sorry to bother you, but..."

"How did you know I was awake?" Bishamon said. Kinuha smiled.

"I didn't," Kinuha said. "I just came to check up on you."

She was carrying a teacup and a small tray. "It's hot chocolate," Kinuha said. "I made some on the off-chance that you were awake. It helps me," Kinuha said, and she hesitated. "It helps me when I'm not feeling well."

"Thank you, Kinuha," Bishamon said. Kinuha set the teacup on the table.

"Ane-sama," Kinuha said, and she hesitated. "I know...I know what you're feeling is supposed to be private. But if you ever want someone to talk to...even if it's just girl stuff. I just want you to know that I'm here."

"Thank you, Kinuha," Bishamon said again. Kinuha started to walk to the door.

"Kinuha?" Bishamon said, and Kinuha turned.

"Did you know Kazuma didn't like chocolate?"

"Really?" Kinuha said. Bishamon smiled.

"It's true," Bishamon said. "He was really a strange guy when it came down to it. He was the only person I knew who didn't like sweets."

"What else did Kazuma-san not like?" Kinuha said, walking closer.

"Let me tell you," Bishamon said, and she offered Kinuha a chair.


End file.
